


Shoot The Stars

by LynyrdLionheart



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 11:50:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15605664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynyrdLionheart/pseuds/LynyrdLionheart
Summary: The alien/coffee shop/past assassin AU that no one asked for.Caroline used to kill people.  Klaus is really weird.  Then he's taking over the world.  No one ever said love was easy.





	Shoot The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a fun, humorous one shot about Klaus-the-alien. Then plot happened, and words happened, and now there will be multiple parts.

_T-minus 30 days…_

The world as we knew it ended on a Wednesday.  Which was really as good a day as any for the world to end.  For most, it was a sudden and frightening change.  For Caroline Forbes, it began just over four weeks earlier, on a Monday.

              Her morning that Monday began as it always had; her alarm went off, and she smashed it with a palm until it finally stopped its incessant ringing.  Then she rolled to her back and stared up at the roof, knowing she should get ready for work, and wondering when the hell her life had turned into such utter shit.

              At one time, she had been the dark shadow that haunted the steps of crooked politicians worldwide.  She was the monster that would take them, should they make that single, fatal mistake. 

              Now she was a barista at a local café that tried so hard to be Starbucks.  It would never be a damn Starbucks, so could they _please_ stop using sizes like “Tall”? It was a small.  Call it a small.

              She let out a huff, and her alarm started to blare again, making her grit her teeth in irritation.  Apparently she’d managed to find the snooze button rather than actually turning it off.  It was probably a divine sign or something; that she needed to get her ass in motion.  Usually, she ignored such signs, because in her line of work, one learned pretty quickly that divinity wasn’t a thing; there was only you, the weapon, and the target.

              Well… in her _previous_ line of work.

              She rolled out of bed, and began her morning routine methodically.  Shower first, then blow dry her hair.  Carefully apply makeup, and then put on her outfit.  Management made them wear pencil skirts and shirts that showed just a hint of cleavage, and if it weren’t for the fact that they had been the only job offer that came out of dozens of resumes sent, Caroline would have told them to take their over-priced coffee and sexist outfit and shove it.

              Caroline had nothing against pencil skirts and cleavage – she liked them both, even – but having to follow a stupid dress code enforced by an even stupider man galled.

              Outfit on, she left her apartment, and arrived at the café exactly five minutes before the start of her shift.  She lurked in the staff room for the duration of that time, trying to psyche herself up and put on a happy face that would appeal to the clientele.

              “Caroline!” she winced and closed her eyes at the voice.  Elena, the shift manager who ‘just cares so much about all of you,’ and who Caroline had to fight the urge to kill every. Damn. Day.  It wasn’t that she was _awful_ per se… at least not in the ways that people Caroline usually killed were awful.  It’s just she was so… she was so _clueless_.

              In Elena’s world, if she was happy, then everyone must be, and if she was sad, then everyone must be, and she just didn’t understand why Caroline’s moods didn’t seem to mirror her own.  Caroline would have explained the basic concept of individualism, but she wasn’t sure that Elena would understand.  Having met the woman’s boyfriend, she wasn’t that surprised; in Damon Salvatore’s world, Elena was the only thing of any importance, and he expected everyone to feel that way when he was around.

              Since he owned the café, he was around way too much.

              “Are you ready for shift?” Elena asked, smiling at her in that _I’m an old soul, love me_ way that made Caroline grit her teeth.

              “Obviously,” Caroline replied, trying to put as much warmth in her voice as possible.  She was apparently out of practice with acting, because she was pretty sure she just sounded like she was in pain.  “I’m here, aren’t I?  Dressed and ready for my shift!”

              If she’d been the praying type, she would have said one when she exited the staff room to see their first customers were already lining up, which meant she didn’t have to worry about talking to Elena any more than that. 

              She began to take her first orders.  She wished she could be like Enzo, who horribly misspelled the names on purpose, just to give that ‘real Starbucks experience that Damon wants to emulate so badly.’ But every time she tried, she just couldn’t bring herself to turn something as innocuous as “Samantha” into “Sally Mae.” 

              She continued this trend, serving customers and blocking out Elena’s irritating cheerfulness – today must be a good day – until finally a man with curly blonde hair stepped up, and stared blankly at the menu.  He was dressed sort of weird, in khaki shorts and a t-shirt with a dark blue vest over it.  An odd mix of fraternity bro and rich politician that didn’t suit this man at all.

              With his messy curls and hint of scruff, he should be dark wash jeans and Henley’s.  Caroline had an eye for this sort of stuff; she was an old pro at fitting in, and this man failed to do so, but in a way that didn’t seem to be on purpose.  It was like he tossed together a bunch of stereotypes and called it a day.

              “Can I help you?” she asked when he stayed silent just a bit too long.  The line behind him was already growing restless, because no one was a bigger asshole than a bunch of upper middle class citizens being kept from their latte fix. 

              The man blinked and then looked at her.  His eyes were blue and incredibly intense.  Caroline found that she couldn’t look away from him.  He cocked his head, and his nostrils flared as he watched her.  She couldn’t help but think about how devastating he’d be in one of the Henleys she’d thought about earlier.  His brow furrowed slightly, and, still without a word, he turned on his heel and left.

              Caroline stood there, staring after him.  What the hell had just happened?

              “Excuse me!” Caroline jerked, the sharp voice drawing her attention back to the woman with what she and Enzo called the ‘suburban mom cut’.  Without waiting for a response, the woman listed out her complicated order, to be made with milk, not cream, and exactly three pumps of caramel.

              Had she been anyone else, she knew she would have messed up the order, still thinking about the blue eyed man, and his beyond weird behavior.  But Caroline had learned how to compartmentalize ages ago, and fulfilling the order while still considering the man, and how he would look in well fitted jeans instead of those khakis that did absolutely nothing for his ass.

              She sighed after thinking about him for the next three orders, and then put him out of her mind.  He had been odd, but his behavior screamed weirdo, and Caroline was too smart to be seduced by someone like that.

              But if he ever showed up again… it might be a little tempting to pretend to be stupid for a while.

_T-minus 28 days…_

              Some days just weren’t worth rolling out of bed for. Nine times out of ten, those days seemed to be Wednesdays, at least for Caroline.  Wednesdays were just so… _meh_.

              In her previous life, there had rarely ever been a _meh_ day, and Wednesdays hadn’t been of particular note, as she hadn’t exactly lived that Monday-to-Friday work life.  Not for the first time, she cursed the _Augustine Society_ , and wondered why she had walked away, instead of just killing Wes Maxfield and taking his spot.

              Admittedly, her timeline hadn’t involved taking his spot this early in her life, but she could have adapted. But betrayal had stung hard, and instead she’d retreated into a new identity to lick her wounds and regroup and now she was… _here_.

              “Excuse me, but I asked for this to have two pumps of chocolate, and it only tastes like one.”

              Caroline stared at the student in front of her.  It took exactly three seconds of her flat eyed glare for him to recoil into himself, his coffee held just in front of him, as though it could somehow protect him.  It couldn’t.  Really, it just offered Caroline a weapon.  Distract him by throwing the drink in his face, and she could have his neck snapped in seconds.

              “Caroline,” Elena hissed from the other cash register.  She was immune to Caroline’s stare.  At first, it had made her suspicious of the brunette.  Then Caroline had realized that Elena was simply too self-involved to pay enough attention to anyone else to recognize when her life was in danger. Now she came to the student and smiled.  “I’m sorry, sir.  Please give me just a moment and I’ll fix that.”

              The cup exchanged hands, received more chocolate, then was returned, and Elena glared at Caroline as the student beat a hasty retreat.

              “You gave him that second shot for free,” Caroline stated.  “If Damon complains, it will have to come out of your pay.”

              “I-”

              “Next!” Caroline called, turning back to the till, and pasting on her best fake smile.  Most days she was good at it.  Today it was a grimace.  But most of the café’s customers seemed to be about as enthused over the day as Caroline was, so really, she fit right in with her dour mood. 

              She looked at the next customer that approached her and then froze.

              The same: curly blonde hair, blue eyes that watched her with an intensity that made her breath catch.

              Different: a Henley and dark wash jeans that clung _just_ right.

              “Hello,” greeted Mr. Mystery, and he had an accent.  Caroline had a weakness for accents; she couldn’t help it.  Considering that her dad had run off with an English Professor from Cambridge when she was just a kid, she thought it was probably a genetic thing. Then he smiled, and dimples cut into her cheeks, and Caroline curled her hands into fists, her nails biting into her palms.

              Silence fell between them.  After a few beats, the man’s smile began to fade, and Caroline realized this time _she_ was being the weird, awkward one.

              “Uh, hi!” she replied, with such bubbly cheer that she actually internally winced at herself.  She hadn’t sounded that upbeat since she pretended to be a cheerleader for a month, forming a friendship with an actual cheerleader so she could get close enough to her father to use a garrote on him.  “I mean… how are – what can I get for you?”

              It was the single most awkward experience of Caroline’s life, mostly because her past awkward experiences had all been carefully planned and executed.

              Caroline Forbes simply did not _do_ awkward on accident.  She had been trained too well from too early an age.

              Now, here were simples and blue eyes, and somehow all that training disappeared and Caroline felt like she was fifteen and experiencing her first crush… and in a way she was, with the crush anyway.  Only it was five years too late and probably just seemed kind of sad.

              “I would like…” the man’s eyes trailed over the options, his brows furrowing just as they had on Monday, and she thought he might just turn and walk away again.  But then his eyes shot back to hers, and he put on that smile again, and it sort of oozed charm in a way that made butterflies flutter in her belly.  “What’s your favorite drink?  I’ll have that.”

              “Are you sure?” Caroline asked uncertainly, because for reasons that she didn’t quite understand, she sort of wanted to be honest with this guy, and she was pretty sure her thousand calorie, topped with a mound of whipcream, double blended, chocolate laden Frappuccino was the type of thing Mr. Mystery usually ordered.

              “I’m positive,” the man replied, his dimples showing again.  “And it’s Klaus.  My name.”

              He said it, as though answering a question.  And sure, Mr. Mystery insinuated that she’d like another name to call him, but it’s not like she’d called him that out loud.

              Had she?

              Oh God, was her awkwardness coming out via verbal diarrhea now?

              A quick glance at Elena said it she couldn’t have said it out loud, because she was doing a really terrible job at attempting to eavesdrop, and she wasn’t looking at Caroline as though she were particularly weird or anything.

              “Okay… Klaus.” And then she gave herself a mental shake, because of _course_ he would give her his name.  She needed it for the cup.  She scrawled it onto the plastic, and set about making the drink, completely aware that his eyes didn’t leave her during the entire process. 

              She handed the drink to him, and he accepted it with another dimpled smile, leaving a bill behind as a tip.  She found herself grinning after him, and then looked down and blinked at the number on the bill.

              $100

              “Hey, Klaus!” she called, intending to fix what had to be a mistake. But he was already out the door, the next customer shifting impatiently at her cash register.

              Caroline pocketed it and turned her attention back to her job, but in the back of her mind thoughts were percolating. Klaus. Mr. Mystery.  Whatever his name was, there was something up there.

              But damn if he didn’t look as good in that Henley ash she’d thought he would.

_T-Minus 25 days…_

              It was finally Saturday, and while she should have been getting ready for Enzo to drag her out to the bar, instead she was brooding.

              Three days, counting Wednesay, Klaus had come to the café.

              Three days he had ordered her terribly sweet Frappuccino.

              Three days in which he had… done absolutely nothing else.

              It wasn’t like they didn’t have regulars who ordered the same thing every time.  Every coffee shop did.  But this was different.  On Thursday and Friday, he had continued to lurk in the café for about half an hour, and she had been aware of his eyes on her the whole time she had continued to serve others.  The butterflies had remained present the whole time, but another, far more sinister part of her had slowly awoken as well.

              She had found herself far more aware of where the knives they used to cut bagels were, and the exact trajectory they would have to take if Klaus moved.

              She had calculated exactly how many innocent bystanders would probably become victims if an attack was necessary.

              She had even switched cash registers with Enzo at one point, claiming that she wanted a change of scenery, but really it was because the switch in positions left him in a less vulnerable location.  If it had been Elena working with her on Friday…

              Well, she was just less willing to let Enzo be a victim.

              And through it all, she’d also been aware that if stuck around for just a half hour longer, she would be able to go on her break, and because Damon was cheap and never had more staff on duty than absolutely necessary, the break room would be empty for them to do…

              Well, no one could say she lacked imagination, let’s just say that.

              But he had done nothing but stare at her, not saying much beyond _hello_ and his order and, on Friday,  _nice weather, isn’t it_?  It was as though he didn’t get flirtation.  Or general small talk.

              “I’m being an idiot,” Caroline announced to her empty room, hopping to her feet and stalking into the bathroom.  She set to getting ready for a night on the town.

              And if she thought of the what-ifs when she created careful curls and the  perfect smoky eye… well, no one needed to know about  her  little fixation. Caroline was good at keeping secrets after all.

              Two hours later found Caroline perched on a stool at the bar, while Enzo flirted with Bonnie on the dance floor. Bonnie had played hard to get, until Caroline had nudged her into Enzo’s arms and made herself scarce.  Now she looked quite content to move against him to the beat of some Kanye song.

              “Fancy seeing you here.”

              Caroline turned her head and stared. A moment ago, that stool had been taken by a man in a trucker hat, who had been single mindedly focused on his beer. But now he was beating a hasty retreat,  Klaus sliding onto the stool in his place. 

              “I didn’t think anything would make him move,” Caroline mused. She had recognized the type; short of broken bones, he wouldn’t have moved. It was why she chose her seat.  Trucker hat had been an excellent dude deterrent.

              “I can be persuasive,” Klaus replied, with that smile that showed off his dimples.

              “What can I get you?” asked the bartender. Her smile at Klaus was appreciative, and when he glanced at Caroline’s glass, the bartender shot her a wink of feminine solidarity.

              “What do you like best?” Klaus asked her, his brow furrowing as it had when she had asked what coffee he wanted.

              “Oh, no. You already got my coffee order. Tit for tat, Klaus – I want to know what you drink.”

              “Really, Love?  I could just ask our lovely server here to make me what you’re having.” He grinned at the bartender, and Caroline had to give her credit, she managed to maintain a spectacularly stony expression.

              “Sorry. I have no idea what she’s drinking,” she lied, rather blatantly.  Rather than call her out, Klaus just sighed.

              “Fine. I’ll have a…” and he trailed off for a moment, quirking his head, as though listening for something, his eyes falling to half-mast. “A beer.”

              “We only have bottled,” the bartender replied, and began listing off brands.  Klaus grew increasingly tense, until the bartender stopped speaking and waited for his choice. His jaw clenched, and he scowled, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

              Caroline recognized the calming method as something she herself used.

              “The first one,” Klaus said finally. 

              When the beer was placed in front of him, Caroline watched closely as payment exchanged hands.  He gave her a perfectly normal tip.

              No hundred dollar bills left here.

              “So, about that-”

              “Do you come here often?” Klaus blurted out, cutting off her question. He was making a habit of that, cutting her off when she would ask about the tip, or disappearing when she would have approached him during lulls in the café.

              He met her gaze, smiling once more, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and she narrowed her own in return.  He was obviously pulling this shit on purpose.  Caroline tapped a finger on the top of the bar, her eyes drifting to his bottle.

              He didn’t seem like the beer type, honestly, and she felt a smirk curve her lips.

              “Aren’t you going to drink?” she asked, all faux innocence and sweetness.  She put her straw to her lips, taking a slurp of her own drink, something sweet and purple that went down entirely too easy.  She’d have to limit how many she drank. 

              Klaus raised a brow, and lifted the bottle.  He froze for a moment, the opening just an inch from his lips, and his nostrils flaring.  His eyes widened with something close to panic, before his expression smoothed itself once more.  Meeting Caroline’s gaze head on, he took a swig from the bottle.

              Despite valiant attempts, he couldn’t entirely mask his grimace of distaste.

              “Obviously, you’re not a beer a person,” she stated with rolled eyes, plucking the bottle away from him and setting it aside.  “So why even order it?”

              “I’m not a big… drinker,” Klaus acknowledged, with a dip of his head.  “The beer seemed popular, which I assumed meant it was safe.”

              “You fell for the hive mind.  I swear, whoever fooled humanity into believing that beer tasted good must be laughing at us from the grave.”  She waved the bartender back over.  “Whiskey sour.”

              Most clubs like this had no idea what a proper whiskey sour was, but Caroline had been to this one enough times to know that it was their secret specialty.  She wasn’t overly fond of them herself, but she figured it would go down as easy as anything else she would order for him.

              “So… I’ve never seen you here before,” Caroline stated once the drink had been made and paid for.

              “Is that how you tell me you _do_ come here often?” Klaus asked.

              “Not that often.  Just when Enzo and Bonnie are doing their flirting thing and need a soundtrack.  Or when I really need to get laid.”

              Klaus choked on the drink he had taken, and Caroline felt her lips curve in amusement as he sputtered and tried to wipe the splashes of whiskey sour from his shirt.  It was another Henley.  That’s all he had worn since she had thought how good he’d look in it. 

              “You seem shocked.  So you don’t drink, you get shocked by a woman talking openly about her sexuality, and you leave hundred dollar tips on an overpriced six buck coffee.  Not to mention that truly terrible outfit from Monday, which I’m glad to see you’ve gotten rid of.” Caroline leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm.  “Who are you, Klaus? Or maybe I should be asking _what_ are you?”

              “ _What_ am I?” Klaus replied, his voice a bit hoarse.  He took a drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and then grinned at him.  “I’m the same as you, Love.”

              “I doubt that,” Caroline replied with a slow grin.  Klaus might put her on guard, but she very much doubted that he was anything like her.  Most people didn’t learn the finer points of using a garrote before they reached puberty.  “I’m pretty unique myself.  So… Mormon?  Amish?  Hutterite? Mennonite? Am I hitting close with any of these?”

              The completely blank look that Klaus gave her said that no, she wasn’t.

              “Okay, so you’re not the more normal type of sheltered, then.  So, a cult?”

              “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Caroline. Truly, I think you may be speaking a different language.”  And he looked, for all the world, as though he were trying to figure that language out.  Like he was one more weird statement away from pulling out a thesaurus or getting Siri to look up her words.

              The music around them was loud, forcing them to lean into each other so they could be heard, and her arm graze against his as she shifted her position.  He looked down at her arm for a moment, then back at her with heat in his eyes.

              Caroline’s mouth felt suddenly dry, and she hastily took a drink, pulling back enough so they no longer touched.

              “Look, even if you’re not into the coffee or the booze scene, you have to know what a freakin’ cult is, Klaus.  There have been, like, a billion movies and tv shows based around them.”

              “A system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object,” Klaus recited, his voice flat as though he were one of those electronic recordings on the computer.  “It may also be defined as a relatively small group of people having religious beliefs or practices regarded by others as strange or sinister.  Or a misplaced or excessive admiration for a particular person or thing.  Notable cult leaders include Jim Jones, Charles Manson, and Shoko Asahara.  I know what a cult is.  What I fail to see is why you believe I belong to one.”

              “Belonged,” Caroline corrected.  “As in past tense.  And, well… you’re kind of weird, Klaus.”

              “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully and leaned into her.  Caroline very nearly pulled back as he invaded her space, but something about him in that moment screamed that he was a predator, the same kind of predator that Caroline had in her, and it demanded that she show him she was _not_ his prey.  “And are you what humans would consider _normal_ then, Caroline?”

              _Not by any stretch of the imagination_.

              “I’m a barista,” she said instead.  “Utterly and completely average.”

              “ _Bullshit_ ,” Klaus purred.  “I quite like that term.  It cuts through nonsense so effectively, wouldn’t you agree?”

              There was something go on, and Caroline was pretty sure she didn’t quite understand what it was.  Maybe Klaus was right, maybe they were speaking completely different languages, even if all the words sounded like English.

              “What do you want?” she asked, because she could cut through nonsense, too.  For a time, she had made a living of just that.

              “That depends.  Why are you here tonight?  For your friends?  Or because you want to get… laid, was it?  A charming turn of phrase.”

              He had gotten off of his stool, and now stood between her legs.  He was only a little bit taller than her when they were both standing, and this stool was high enough that it actually gave her a bit of a height advantage.  But Klaus didn’t seem to notice that.

              No, he seemed utterly secure in his own dominance of the situation, even though he had the lower ground.

              “Bonnie and Enzo are right over there,” she said, waving a hand blindly towards the dance floor.  She had no idea if she was motioning in the right direction, and she found she couldn’t break the hold of his gaze, except to let her eyes dart to his lips – ridiculously full and red – then right back up.

              “That isn’t an answer, Caroline.”

              _My friends._

_I’m here for my friends._

_There is no way in hell I’m going anywhere with you._

“Where are you staying?  Is it close by?”

              Klaus’ lips quirked up in victory, and he offered her his hand, stepping back only far enough to give her room to stand.

              God help her, but Caroline ignored every instinct that had kept her alive to that point and took it.

_T-minus 24 days…_

              She felt sore in all the right ways.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like that. It was almost like she was eighteen again, and high off her first mission and…

              An arm, warm and heavy, was slung over her waist. Warm breath blew on her neck, and she felt someone bury their face against the skin. 

              It was instinct, to shove the arm up and roll away from the body that had been a warm pressure at her back.  She always had a knife on her, but it had been tucked away into a cleverly concealed pocket in her dress, which had been tossed only God knew where, so instead of going on the offensive, she went for space.

              She finally faced the bed again from a crouched position several feet away.  Klaus blinked at her blearily, sitting upright beneath the sheets.  Seeing that reminded her of how she had ended up in his bed.

              _Hot, wet kisses… hands tugging at clothes… and then a good, old fashioned fucking._

He’d taken her against the door the first time, and her eyes darted there, her tongue wetting her lips at the reminder.  Klaus saw where she looked, and his eyes grew heavy, his smile far too smug.

              The second and third times had been right in that bed, when she had ridden him until they both panted, and then he had done the same to her. She still felt a sting on her neck, where he’d gotten enthusiastic with his teeth.  It stung in a surprisingly delicious way, considering that she’d never been super into biting.

              “Come back to bed, Caroline,” Klaus said, his voice a low purr that went right to her clit and reminded her of how he had teased it with his tongue until she’d been a blabbering, blathering mess beneath him.

              She took a step towards him, and then froze with a scowl.  That wasn’t what she meant to do.  She meant to find her dress, and get out. Even if he did look incredibly inviting, sprawled out, his arms behind his head as he watched her with that little grin, that just barely put indents in his cheeks.

              “I can’t,” she said at last, catching sight of her dress across the room.  She looked around for her undergarments, but they seemed to be AWOL, and she didn’t trust herself to stay any longer than a few minutes, not when the bed would be so warm and… _pleasurable_.  Instead, she shimmied into the dress sans underwear, ran a hand through her hair, and then gave him a tight smile.  “I need to get home to do… stuff.  Things.”

              “Things?” Klaus asked with a smirk.  “I could be things.”

              “Laundry,” Caroline blurted.  “I need to do laundry.  So… thanks.  For, you know.  Last night.  It was fun.”

              “It was.  When would you like to do it again?”

              “Uh… never?” 

              Klaus’ grin disappeared, and he sat up again, a scowl tugging his lips.  Caroline backed towards the door, her hands in front of her.

              “Look, Klaus, it was good.  Like, really good.  A+ good, really.  But when I said I went to that bar to get laid, I wasn’t kidding.  This” – she waved a hand around – “one night?  It’s as far as my relationships go.”

              “Why?”

              “Because-” Caroline cut off, floundering.  Because… _why?_ It had become habit?  Killing people professionally wasn’t really conducive to romance, but she wasn’t in that line of work, not since Wes’ betrayal.  So… why?

              She thought of a relationship, what it would be like to be with someone like that, to be held and have someone to talk to and it was… pleasant.  To let someone know her more than the surface level she had allowed Enzo and Bonnie to experience.

              _And what would you tell a partner about your childhood?_ Asked the cynical voice that always kept Caroline from getting too close to anyone.  _That the very first game you were taught was about learning ideal torture methods?_

It had involved removing fingernails.  At the time, there had been ten of them in the training program.  By the time she had fled at eighteen, she had been the only one left.  

              A harsh reminder to her, of exactly who and what was in her past, and who and what could become her present again at any point.  Just because she had heard from Augustine since she’d fled didn’t mean they weren’t looking.  It just meant that she wasn’t their first priority, not yet.

              She didn’t bother trying to fool herself into believing she’d just hidden that well.  The people that trained her were still with Augustine, after all.

              “Relationships are messy,” she finally said, because the truth wasn’t a thing that could be spoken aloud.  “I don’t do messy.”

              “Perhaps you should have mentioned that before coming home with me,” Klaus replied coolly, climbing out of the bed.  He didn’t seem bothered by his nakedness, but Caroline had to focus her gaze just above his shoulder.  He might be a little miffed with her at the moment, but it hadn’t affected his morning wood.

              “Are you being serious right now?  I’m giving you a clear out, Klaus.  No awkward _I’ll call yous_ or anything else.  You get away completely free of responsibility.”

              “IF I’d wanted to be free of responsibility, I wouldn’t have brought you to my bed, Caroline.” He contemplated her with a furrow in his brow.  “Perhaps I can convince you otherwise?”

              “I… it’s probably better that you don’t try,” Caroline replied.

              “Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully and reached back, wrapping a sheet around his waist.  “That’s not a no.  But I suppose I’ll let you run away.  For now.  You’ll have my drink ready for me on Monday, won’t you?  I’ve grown rather fond of your… Frappuccinos, I believe.”

              She stared blankly at his back, as he strolled away from her, into what she was assumed was an attached bathroom.  He was just… she… he…

              “You’re unbelievable,” she muttered, and even though there was no way he could hear her, she swore she heard laughter as she left his room.

              She made it down the steps, and was headed for the door when she became aware she was being watched.  She paused, and looked over her shoulder, at a brunette who was standing in the doorway to another room.  He watched her with dark eyes, and she recognized trouble in his expression.

              He wore khakis, like Klaus had that first day, and a wifebeater that looked absolutely ridiculous on him. 

              “Trailer Park chic doesn’t suit you,” she said. 

              “I wonder if Nik realizes what he’s chosen,” the man replied.  “You just may be more than he can handle.”

              He retreated on those words, and Caroline just shook her head.  He was as weird as Klaus, and she didn’t have time for this.

              She ordered an Uber and made mental plans to go running when she got home.  She needed to seat off her frustration.

_T-minus 20 days…_

“Okay, so I’m going to bite.” Caroline plopped herself into the seat across from Klaus.  He had continued to come in every day for his Frappuccino, and she had finally decided that it was some plot to get her to acknowledge him beyond a fake smile and asking for his order.  Well, he won.  He’d get his acknowledgement.  “You come in here every day, for four days.  You order your drink, I’m a passive aggressive bitch and you try nothing.  What’s your game here?”

              “Perhaps I really like Frappuccinos,” Klaus replies with an easy smirk.  “Or, perhaps I recognized that this was the best way to get you to speak to me.  Lo and behold, here you are. And with your own drink, even.”

              She glanced down at the drink that was a twin of his, and then shrugged.  Hers had extra whipped cream on it, and she felt a little smug about that.

              “It’s my break.  I’ve decided to honor you with my presence during it.”

              “I am.  Honored.”

              Caroline looked away from him, and she thought she might actually be _blushing_ , which was completely ridiculous.  But he was just so… charming. 

              “One date,” she finally declared.

              “Pardon?” Klaus replied.

              “One date,” she said again.  “I will give you one date.  And then we move from there.”

              “In fear of being accused of being a cult member once more… a date would involve what exactly?” Klaus drummed his fingers on the side of his plastic cup while Caroline actively gaped at him.

              “Are you serious right now?” she demanded, because hell, one _could_ almost consider Augustine a cult, and even she had known what dating was while a member.  So she didn’t know what Klaus could possibly be.  “How have you gotten to know your partners in the past?”

              “I haven’t,” Klaus replied. “You see, in the past, one night? It’s as far as my relationships go.”

              She narrowed her eyes to hear her own words echoed back at her.

              “You jerk.  All of that affront, it was totally fake!”

              He chuckled low, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.  It was so stupid, getting fluttery over some _boy_.  He cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to hers.  It was chaste, and she tried to deepen it, only for him to pull away.

              “Patience, Love. Now – you were explaining dates to me.”

              Caroline snorted and ducked out of his grip, jumping to her own feet and scrawling her number onto a napkin.  She pressed it into his chest, and then backed out of reach of him once more.

              “Google it.  And then use my number to let me know all about what you find out.  We’ll test your reading retention.”

              She felt a little smug, that she was finally the one to leave _him_ , and saunter back to her positon behind the counter.

_T-minus 18 days…_

              _I’ll pick you up at 8 pm.  Send me your address, and wear a dress._

_Nice try.  You can pick me up outside the café.  But the dress I can do._

Caroline felt nervous as she waited outside the café.  She bounced lightly on the balls of her feet, her heeled shoes never completely leaving the ground. Klaus had refused to give her anything except to wear a dress, so she’d selected a red one, with a flared waist, and a scooped neck that showed just a hint of cleavage.  The skirt fell a couple inches above her knee.  It was a dress that made her look good.  She knew it did.

              Yet she still checked her appearance in the reflection of the window, making sure everything remained in place.

              “This is so stupid,” she muttered.

              The problem was, she’d never been on an actual date before.  There had been ones necessary to maintaining her cover, but even they had been few and far between.  The point of killing people professionally was to never get caught, and that meant staying out of sight and out of mind for the most part. 

              This was an entirely new experience for her.

              “Surely you don’t mean our date.  I’m rather looking forward to it myself.”

              Caroline spun, to see Klaus on the sidewalk behind her.  She was getting sloppy, letting him sneak up on her like that.

              She’d been sloppy since she’d met Klaus. It was going to get somebody killed.  Likely her.

              “Considering that two days ago you didn’t know what a date involved… I’ll admit to being a little curious.  About what you have planned.” Caroline smoothed a hand over her hair, and found herself fidgeting with her dress.

              “Ah… so you _weren’t_ talking about the date.  Then what, may ask, is _so stupid_?” He offered her his arm, like they were in some sort of period movie.  It should have seemed ridiculous, but somehow Klaus pulled it off.

              Old world charm suited him, it appeared.

              “I never said I _wasn’t_ talking about the date,” she replied with a cheeky grin.  “Just that I was also curious.  Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

              Caroline didn’t know much about cars, except how to drive them and how to hot wire them, but the one he led her to was _nice_.  It looked like it belonged on the cover of _Car and Driver_ or some other magazine.  It was dark blue, and looked like it was probably built in the 50s or 60s or whatever decade it was that made guys make that weird grunting noise they did when they saw a nice car.

              Klaus opened the door, and Caroline climbed in, careful to keep the skirt of her dress pressed to her legs.  Klaus grinned, realizing she was maintaining modesty.  When Caroline raised a brow at him, he just winked, and closed the door, strolling around to get in the driver’s side.

              “I hope you’re not awaiting anything too original. From what I understand, dinner is somewhat of a cliché, but Rebekah assured me that, though common, it should allow me the time to get to know you.  I’ll impress more on the second date.”

              “Oh, we’re having a second date, are we?” Caroline asked, amused.  “That’s rather assumptive.”

              “Just hopeful.”

              Caroline rolled her eyes, but figured if she was doing this dating thing, she should at least _attempt_ to do the get-to-know-you thing as well.  At least, as far as anyone _could_ get to know her.

              “Rebekah?” she asked, latching onto the name he had spoken. 

              “My sister,” Klaus explained.  “Quite desperate for love, latched right onto the whole _dating_ concept right from the get-go, which I suppose is typical of her. She always goes right for the courting rituals.”

              “ _Courting rituals_?” Caroline asked with an amused raise of her brows.  “I mean, I get that they probably do things a _little_ differently in England, but we’re not in a nineteenth century period piece, Klaus.”

              He looked adorably confused for a moment, but quickly looked away from her, focusing on pulling into a restaurant parking lot.  Caroline recognized it as an Italian place whose weekend reservation list extended out over a month.  She felt a little impressed despite herself, and vaguely wondered how exactly her life became a scene out of a romance novel about the rich and famous.

              “You know we need a reservation here, right?” she asked hesitantly, because maybe this was like the whole date thing, where he didn’t really get how it worked.

              “Trust me, Love,” Klaus said, grinning at her over his shoulder.  He grasped her hand and tugged him after her.  His grip was warm, and Caroline decided to stop trying to overthink this stupid thing.

              She was just a girl, and he was just a boy, and they were going on a first date.  That simple.

              There was a brief moment at the hostess podium, where it seemed like there really _hadn’t_ been a reservation.  But a lower murmur and some intense glaring from Klaus seemed to clear the issue up.  The hostess gave them an odd, vacant smile that made the hairs on Caroline’s arm raise, and lead them into the restaurant.

              “Is she okay?” Caroline asked, frowning after the woman.  She seemed to grow confused after taking a few steps away from their table, looking around as if unsure where she was.

              “I’m sure she’s fine.” Klaus waved a hand, as though physically removing her worries.  “I prefer to focus on you.”

              And he did, his gaze focused solely on her.  It was difficult to think about anything, when she had his undivided attention.  Still, she gave the hostess one last worried glance, relieved when she saw that she had made it back to the podium and shaken off whatever issue had overtaken her. 

              “Are you happy?” Klaus asked, leaning back in his chair, resting his arm over the back.  His eyes gleamed with amusement.  In the dim light, they seemed somehow impossibly brighter than in the light of day.  “Can I tempt your attention back to myself?”

              “Okay,” Caroline replied, resting her chin in her hand.  “You have my undivided attention.  Blow me away.”

              “What do you want to know?”

              Caroline’s mind went blank for a moment.  That question seemed so… big, when she felt like she really didn’t know anything about him at all.

              “The other day,” she said at last, latching onto the first topic she could think of.  “There was a man downstairs.  Dressed as… uniquely” – she wanted to mention Klaus’ own unique dress when he first came to the café, but that was a different topic.  Augustine had always taught her to compartmentalize, so it would be one question at a time – “he thought I’d be more than you could handle.  Who was he?”

              “A pain,” Klaus growled, sitting up straight.  “He didn’t harm you?”

              Caroline thought of the man in the khaki shorts and the wife beater, and before she could stop it, she snorted in laughter.  She covered her mouth in horror when she’d realized what she’d done.  If she’d wanted to be sexy and mysterious, she had clearly just failed.

              “You find danger to yourself humorous?” Klaus asked, his expression saying that _he_ did not.  It was rather … sweet.

              Seriously misguided, but he had no way of knowing that.  So it was sweet.

              “I’m… tough to harm,” Caroline replied slowly.  And then, because questions weren’t really something she wanted to answer, she put on her best bubbly smile, wrapping a curl around a finger and doing her best impression of harmless.  “My daddy taught me how to punch.”

              Klaus blinked, and cocked his head.  His expression was curious, his brow furrowed, as though somehow he could stare to the heart of her, and find the answer to whatever it was that confused him.  Caroline smile slowly faded and she shrugged uneasily.

              “My brother,” he said at last, rather than asking the questions he clearly had.  “One of them, at least.  His name is Kol, and knowing to punch or not, he’s not one you want to meet after dark.  I have two other brothers as well, Elijah and Finn.  Finn is a tad boring, and Elijah rather uptight, but both are preferable over Kol.”

              “A big family,” Caroline commented.  “With four brothers, Rebekah must be have crazy.  Parents?”

              “Dead,” Klaus replied, and he didn’t look at all sorry about that.  When Caroline would have asked more, he interjected easily.  “How about you?”

              “Me?  No siblings here, I’m afraid.”

              “And parents?”

              “I have them.”

              It was as closed an answer as his had been, and silence fell between them.  Caroline bit her lip, because this date talk stuff was more difficult than she’d realized it would be.  She searched desperately for another subject, a _safe_ subject, and wondered if such a thing existed.

              “Job,” she blurted out at last.  “Work, I mean.  You obviously know what I do, but I realized I have no idea about you.”

              “I’m an artist,” Klaus replied, leaning towards her, his eyes gleaming.  “I’d been in somewhat of inspiration drought.  Until twelve days ago.”

              “What happened twelve days ago?” Caroline asked, genuinely fascinated.  She had no artistic talent herself, but she’d often found herself entranced by the artwork that hung in the more hallowed halls she’d walked in her time with Augustine.  The dark, moody pieces had always whispered to the parts of her that were the same.

              “I met a girl,” Klaus replied, his lips quirking. “And she was quite glorious.”

              _Her_.

              She was what had happened.

              God, was she _blushing_?  That was absolutely ridiculous, but she was.

              “I… if there are paintings about me hanging around somewhere, they had better stay private,” she finally said, tossing her hair back in what she hoped was a careless manner.  She didn’t feel careless, not at all.  “Otherwise it’s creepy.”

              “Completely private,” Klaus swore.  “Scout’s honor.”

              “Scout’s honor?” Caroline replied with a swift smile.  “You don’t know how dates work, but you know what the Boy Scouts are?  I’m not sure what to make of you, Klaus.”

              “I rather thought it was a turn of phrase,” Klaus stated, brow furrowing and shaking his head.  “I thought it an odd one.  Knowing there’s more context to it makes far more sense.”

              Caroline couldn’t help it – she laughed.  It was just so ridiculous.

              “You are the strangest person I’ve ever met,” Caroline said, and considering what she had done, and where she had been, that was saying something.  But he was – strange in the best of ways.  “I think I like it.”

              He smiled at her again, and Caroline knew she would be going home with him again.

              She was already looking forward to it.

_T-minus 17 days…_

“This feels like déjà vu.”

              Caroline looked over her shoulder at Klaus and grinned.  She finished pulling her panties up, and then reached for her bra.

              “I’m not fleeing this time,” she pointed out.  “And I’m taking my underwear.  I have a lunch date with friends.”

              Klaus looked so warm in the bed, that she ignored her dress for a moment to crawl back onto the bed and kiss him.  He tugged her, so she straddled his waist, and then deepened the kiss.  Her hair fell around them, creating their own private little world, and they smiled at one another as they pulled apart.

              “Cancel lunch,” Klaus urged.  “Come back to bed with me.  It’s nice and warm.”

              Caroline ran her hands up his stomach, and ran her nails over his pecs.  He looked a little sleepy still, and his hair was adorably mussed.  He was temptation in human form, and his offer was so incredibly tempting.

              “I really should go,” she admitted.  “But you can have, like, ten minutes to convince me.”

              “Well” – he sat up suddenly and tumbled her onto her back.  He was still wonderfully naked, and Caroline suddenly regretted putting her underwear back on – “I guess I should get to it.”

              He pressed kisses to her neck, over the spot that he had bitten on that first night.  He’d nipped and licked at it again last night, but hadn’t bitten so hard again.  Now, he kissed his way passed it, and tugged one of her bra straps down, to kiss along her shoulder.

              “Niklaus, get up.  We need to pl – dear lord, have you brought a harlot into our home?”

              Klaus snarled and rolled off of Caroline, bundling the comforter on top of her to hide her from view.  She might have been embarrassed by being caught half naked, but the sight of the man that had burst in left her so flabbergasted that embarrassment wasn’t possible.

              “Is that… is that a _cravat_?” she asked incredulously.

              She wouldn’t pretend to be a master of nineteenth century fashion, but she had watched _Pride & Prejudice_ with Keira Knightley often enough to be pretty sure that the man did, in fact, have a cravat around his neck.  In fact, he looked like he had stepped right off the pages of Jane Austen and into Klaus’ room.

              Except that the colors were awful on him, a sort of burned orange, and she was pretty sure that the trousers were supposed to be tight, but not _that_ tight.

              “Some of us like to dress properly,” the man replied stiffly, straightening his jacket, dusting some lint off the lapel.

              “Ooookay,” Caroline said, drawing out the syllables slowly.  She climbed out of the bed and, keeping the comforter between her and the new man, tugged her dress up.  Klaus scowled at her, and then turned that scowl on the intruder.

              “Finn, give me a good reason not to tear your throat out.”

              “I am your _brother_ , Niklaus.  I should think that reason enough.”

              “Really, Finn, we all know better than to think that blood relations protect us from our madman of a brother.” 

              “ _Seriously_?” Caroline hissed as Kol stepped into the room.  He still wore a wife beater, this time matched with daisy dukes of all things.  She was almost jealous; she thought his legs might actually look better than hers.  “Does no one in this house knock?”

              “Ah, Nik’s pretty blonde friend.” Kol grinned at her, tilting his head.  The grin was a little frightening, and Caroline remembered Klaus’ worry that this brother might have hurt her.  She straightened, her hand falling to the pocket sown into her dress, the one where she kept her butterfly knife.  “Remember me?”

              “With that shirt?  It’s difficult to forget,” Caroline replied coolly.  “You didn’t listen to me about the trailer park outfits.”

              “The pretty little piece I charmed last night didn’t seem to have an issue.” Kol leaned against the door jamb.  “If you’re thinking to use that knife on me, you’d best reconsider.  I’m quite mean, darling.”

              “Kol,” Klaus hissed.  He moved just a hair too quickly, to grab his brother by the neck and slam his head into the doorway.

              “Really, Nik, she’s the one that’s armed,” Kol replied, his voice choked. His eyes glittered, and he never looked away from Caroline. 

              She bared her teeth at him, and he looked somewhat startled.  Perhaps he was finally recognizing the monster in Caroline, the one with sharper teeth than his.

              She always had sharper teeth.

              “This is quite improper,” Finn stated, looking between his brothers.  “We cannot afford this level of distraction right now! Release him, Niklaus.”

              Klaus glared at Finn, and Kol took the chance to lash out.  It was a quick, impressive move that almost startled Caroline, and it reversed their position.

              “Yes, Nik, very improper,” Kol mocked.

              “For fuck’s sake,” Caroline muttered darkly, ignoring Finn’s scandalized gasp to stalk to the two brothers against the door.  It was an old, practiced move to grab Kol’s forefinger and pull it back until it threatened to snap and he swore, releasing Klaus.  “Look, this is weird. And whatever damage your family has, you should deal with it when there isn’t a half-naked girl in your brother’s room.”

              “You don’t look half-naked to me,” Kol replied with a pout, rubbing his finger.

              “I was when this bullshit started,” Caroline replied, checking the time on her phone.  “I have to go.”

              “Caroline.” Klaus grasped her wrist, tugging her back into his embrace.  He pressed his lips to hers again, in a kiss that could have very easily turned heated.  Only her awareness of Kol and Finn kept her from deepening it and letting him tumble her back into the bed.

              “You mentioned a second date?” she asked breathlessly when he broke apart.  Clearly, he had a dysfunctional relationship with his siblings, but Caroline couldn’t exactly judge anyone else’s family, and it wasn’t nearly enough to scare her off.

              Not when their second round in bed had been every bit as amazing as the first.  Maybe it was because there were the first stirrings of feelings involved?

              Caroline had never really fucked while having feelings before.

              “Niklaus, you don’t have-”

              Without looking away from Caroline, Klaus swept his foot back, landing Finn on his ass.

              “I’ll make it spectacular.”

_T-minus thirteen days…_

              Klaus had to go out of town.

              At least that was what he had claimed.  The story hadn’t been clear, and he had been acting kind of weird about it all. She gave Enzo a brief overview, low on the details, hoping that maybe he could give her a dude’s opinion.  Of course, giving the run down in front of Elena was an accident.

              “He’s ghosting you.”

              Caroline raised a brow at Elena’s sage words, looking to Enzo, the one she had actually been explaining the situation to, with raised brows.

              “Is that supposed to make sense?”

              “It means that he slept with you, and now he won’t talk to you again,” Enzo replied, attaching his name tag to his shirt. 

              “That makes no sense,” Caroline informed Elena.  “If he wanted to… _ghost_ , he would have done it when I tried to write him off as a one night stand.  Maybe you should get the full story before you give your opinion.”

              “Well, sorry, but it sounds like a classic ghosting.”

              “Elena,” Enzo drawled.  “This may be shocking to you, as your co-dependent relationship means you must constantly have Damon in your twat, but not all couples need to be hand in hand ninety percent of the time.  Is he still texting you, Gorgeous?”

              “Yes,” Caroline replied, though she didn’t show Klaus’ latest message.  Mostly because it was a little weird.

              She thought it might be a meme?  She’d had to learn about such things for certain jobs, and it had been one of her greatest joys, to stop learning them when she’d fled.

              _Am I supposed to understand that? – Caroline_

_You judged me for some misunderstandings, yet you don’t know what yeet is? – Klaus_

_No one who’s graduated high school knows what yeet means. – Caroline_

“Yeah, he’s not ghosting her,” Enzo said when Caroline grinned over the texts.  “Did he say what he needed to do?”

              Not really.  There had been something about work.  But then he turned it around into family.  And then, because he’d come to the café to explain it, he’d simply kissed her until questions were the last things she was thinking about. 

              “An emergency,” she replied vaguely.

              Luckily, the store opened to a rush, so she didn’t need to explain any further.  And by the time the crowd died down, it was obvious her co-workers had forgotten their questions.

              Caroline let out a huff of relief, and then looked up as a customer approached her.  She was blonde, and quite beautiful, dressed impeccably in what appeared to be a dark pant suit.  It should have looked granny-esque, but this woman somehow pulled it off.

              “How can I help you?” she asked brightly.

              “You can tell me what the hell has my brother so entranced with you,” the woman replied, the slightest of sneers on her slips.  “You don’t seem that spectacular to me.  Moderately pretty… entirely too upbeat.  Nik hates upbeat.”

              “Oh,” Caroline let the perkiness go away.  “You must be Rebekah.  You know, we don’t have to do this interaction thing right now.  Klaus and I may not even last.”

              She thought they probably could… but this girl didn’t need to know that.

              “Oh, you poor, naïve idiot,” Rebekah said with a laugh.  “You’re right.  You won’t last.  You’re an amusement, and you have an expiry date.  You’re the memory that haunts the hero and acts as a barrier to his happy ending, not the heroine he ends up with.”

              “Oookay,” Caroline replied slowly, and she did that entirely too much around these siblings.  But it wasn’t every day that she realized that _her_ family might be the more normal in a relationship.

              That was just plain fucked up.

              “Well.” Rebekah gave a nod.  “I would like a cappuccino then.  With cinnamon.”

              “You do realize that you’ve been a giant bitch to me and I’m going to spit in it, right?” Caroline asked, and Enzo smoothly interjected himself in front of her.

              “One cappuccino.  I can do that. Gorgeous, why don’t you have a break?”

              Caroline rolled her eyes, but decided not to argue.  She really hoped Klaus appreciated the bullshit she was putting up with for him.

              He had better make it worth it.

_T-minus 10 days…_

              He had texted that he had made it home the night before.

              She had considered calling him, but it had seemed so… desperate.  But now she was standing outside the townhouse he and his siblings lived in, and was this really any better?

              She should have waited for him to come to the café.  This stuff was easier when he came to _her_.  And maybe that was sort of why she had done this.  You know – to show that she was into this, too.  That it wasn’t _all_ one sided.

              She let out a slow breath and stepped up to the door.  Before she could think about it too hard, she knocked.

              She immediately regretted it.

              He didn’t live alone.  She swore if she had to deal with Kol and his creepiness and wife-beaters, she’d punch someone.  Or what if it was Finn the Mr. Darcy wannabe?  Or even worse – Rebekah of the pant suits and bitchy personality?

              She was stepping back, seriously considering just leaving, when the door opened.  She didn’t recognize this man, dressed in a carefully pressed suit.  But he looked almost… _normal_?

              Which was really not normal for this family.

              “Uh… Elijah?” Caroline guessed, managing to recall the name of the third and final of Klaus’ siblings.

              “Do I know you?” the man, who must be Elijah since he didn’t argue at her calling him that, asked.

              “No. At least, probably not? Is Klaus here?” she tried to peek past Elijah’s shoulder, but he slid, so that he blocked her view.

              “Niklaus is busy at the moment. I’m afraid that unless you have gifts beyond simply being a pretty face, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

              Caroline was kind of getting tired of these siblings all being complete assholes to her.  She should probably just declare that no dick was worth this much trouble, but it was too late for that.  She’d grown attached, and she had missed Klaus, and she was damn well going to see him.

              Elijah’s air expelled from his longs with a loud _oomph_ when Caroline grabbed his arm and sent him over her shoulder.  She’d been taking night classes in Judo to maintain her skills, and she was happy to say that they had ensured that the move was easy and natural. 

              “Girls can never be just a pretty face,” she informed him primly, dusting her hands off.  “Only men are allowed to be _that_ mediocre.”

              She stepped into the house, and headed for the steps.  She didn’t bother trying to be quiet, and the loud pounding of her feet was enough to draw Klaus from his room.  It was sappy, rom-com level shit, the way the world seemed to tilt back into the place when she finally saw him.  She came to a halt right in front of him, grinning at him with a dopey, lovelorn expression.

              “Hi,” she said.

              “Hi,” he replied, and his own smile was a little dopey and lovelorn, too.  She liked that, that she never doubted whether or not he was right there with her.

              She liked it so much that she placed one hand on the back of his head, and pulled him in for a kiss.  He responded instantly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tight against his body.  She sighed against his lips, and melted against him.

              “I missed you,” she admitted when they broke apart for air.

              “I’m glad,” Klaus replied.  “I’ll admit, I worried that you wouldn’t.  Not as I missed you.”

              “Niklaus!” Caroline wrinkled her nose when she heard Elijah’s voice boom from behind them.  She pulled out of Klaus’ embrace, so they could both look at his brother.  “Who is this harridan?  Do you know what she did?”

              “Your suit is looking a little wrinkled,” Klaus said, rather than answering his questions.  “Not quite up to Bond standards, are we?”

              “Bond?” Caroline asked with a raised brow.  “Like, James Bond? You know what… between the Mr. Darcy, Hillary, and the _Trailer Park Boys_ reject, I’m not even going to ask on this one.”

              Why not have the final brother be a Bond fan boy?  It’s not like it was any weirder than the other three.

              “My siblings are unique,” Klaus replied with a dimpled smile.  “I’d toss them aside but, you know, blood and all that.  Elijah, leave us be.  Caroline and I need to… talk.”

              “I know exactly what _talk_ means, Niklaus.  Finn was quite vocal as to what you’re doing when you _should_ be focused on this family’s aims.  Simply ensure that Miss Forbes is still here in ten days, and you can pick up where you left off.” Elijah waved a hand carelessly.  “For now, we need you undivided attention.”

              “Ten days?” Caroline asked, and both brothers froze.  It would have been comical, if there weren’t something about the whole situation that set off alarm bells in the back of her mind. “What happens in ten days?”

              “Nothing that concerns you,” Elijah replied haughtily.

              “A family reunion,” Klaus spoke over his brother.  He was still smiling, but there was something a little unhinged about it, reminding Caroline that, though he may do a better front of normal these days, Klaus was still related to the mad men and woman he was surrounded by… and he had his own moments of oddity as well.  “It’s going to be a large one, and we’re hosting.”

              “I don’t think this house will be able to fit too many more people,” Caroline quipped, trying to shake off the uneasiness that had dug its way into the back of her mind.

              “Oh, we’ll make do,” Klaus replied.  “We’re very good at finding accommodation.” He quirked his head and smiled at her.  “Perhaps you’d like to stay with us.  You might enjoy watching from here when it all begins.”

              “A nice invitation,” Caroline replied, trying to laugh the whole thing off.  “But I have to go to work.  We can’t all be starving artists.  I just wanted to come and say hello and that I missed you.  And now that I’ve done that…”

              The almost maniacal look in Klaus’ eye vanished, replaced by affection, and he cupped Caroline’s cheek and pressed an incredibly soft kiss to her lips.

              “I missed you too, Love.  Once the reunions begun, I won’t have to disappear from your side again.”

              The words didn’t give her the comfort she thought they were meant to.

_T-minus 8 days…_

“What’s up with Mr. Rochester?”

              Caroline raised a brow at Enzo as she finished mixing a latte.  He spoke under his breathe, making another drink at her side.  He jerked his head over her shoulder, and she looked.

              “Are you fucking kidding me?” she muttered, when she saw Finn in the line next to Klaus.  He caught her eye and winked, but Finn just looked at the menu boards with a lost expression, rather reminiscent of the one Klaus had worn when he had first started coming to the café.  For the first time, she could actually see a family resemblance between the two.

              She managed to paste a fake smile onto her face for her current customer, though the woman looked somewhat terrified and stuttered her way through a thanks, before practically fleeing the counter.  Seeing her expression, Enzo waved the next in line his way, leaving Caroline facing the Mikaelson brothers.

              “My regular, Love,” Klaus said, sauntering up.  “Finn, what do you want?”

              “How on earth does one choose?” Finn asked, looking rather gobsmacked as he stared at the options.  “Perhaps tea? It seems quite popular.”

              “Sure.  We have Earl Grey, apple cinnamon, green…” Caroline continued listing off the tea options, fighting back a laugh as Finn grew haggard looking as he realized that even “tea” was not so simple.  “We also have a selection of tea infusions, tea slushes, and tea lattes, if you want me to give you those.”

              “Gaia help me,” Finn murmured, and Caroline frowned. 

              “Who’s Gaia?” she asked Klaus, who dug his elbow into Finn’s ribs.

              “Who can say, Love?  You know that Finn is rather odd.  Just double my order; he’ll make do.”

              “I’ll make do with what?” Finn asked as Caroline turned her back to begin the order, after giving Klaus a hard look.  “Niklaus, what did you order for me?  Miss Forbes, I don’t trust him. Can I get that first tea you mentioned?”

              Not in a particularly kind mood, Caroline ignored Finn’s question and made up both frappuccinos.  She added a third, and looked over her shoulder at Enzo.

              “It’s slow.  I’m taking my break now.”

              Looking at Klaus and Finn with an amused look, he gave an easy shrug.

              “Have at it, Gorgeous.  I’ll hold down the fort.”

              She finished the drinks and rang them up, daring Klaus to argue when she put her own on his bill as well.  He just smiled at her pleasantly, and followed when she carried the drinks to an empty table.

              “What on earth is this?” Finn asked. 

              “Not on the menu,” Caroline replied.  “I created it for myself when I first started here, and your brother got hooked on them.”

              He took a tentative sip, his eyes widening, and he began to slurp it down in earnest.  Caroline thought about giving the brain freeze warning… but really, unless Finn experienced brain freeze himself, he wouldn’t appreciate the dangers of it as he should.

              And okay, maybe it’s that tiny, spiteful part of her that she tries not to let out too often, the one that wants the people that have hurt her, or insulted her, to burn.  But this is just brain freeze, it’s not actually killing anyone, so she won’t feel guilty about not warning him.

              Finn looked at her with a furrowed brown.

              “What is brai – oh!” he clutched his head, and Caroline let’s a smirk curve her lips and the pained reaction.

              “I don’t like lying,” Caroline said, looking to Klaus.  “I mean, _I_ don’t mind lying, as in doing it, but I don’t like being lied to.  Not even by omission or through distractions.  So – who, or what, is a Gaia?”

              Finn’s brain freeze headache ended, and he looked at Klaus, his expression grim.  Klaus returned the look, and they remained silent, as though they could somehow communicate just through the intensity of their gazes. 

              “I won’t lie to you,” Klaus said at last.  “But I can’t tell you that right now.  I can, in just over a week.”

              “The family reunion,” Caroline replied grimly.  The words had never seemed as ominous as they did when used in relation to the Mikaelsons, and it worried Caroline, that her instincts were warning her that something was _wrong_.

              She wanted to ignore her instinct, to just hold onto Klaus and enjoy this bit of happiness they were finding with each other.  She’d never had someone, who was _hers_ , in the ways Klaus was.

              “Trust me, Love.”

              She didn’t.  Caroline wasn’t good at trust.  A lifetime having no one _to_ trust meant it was a foreign concept to her.  But God help her, she wanted to try it.

              “Okay,” she said, and if she said it enough times, she would will it into existence.  “I’ll trust you.”

              You know what they say about famous last words.

_T-minus 4 days…_

“I can’t believe you brought me to an amusement park.”

              Caroline pulled some cotton candy off of the stick and popped it in her mouth.  It melted in her mouth, and she felt like she was three.

              Or at least what she assumed a three year old with cotton candy would feel like.

              “I’m told this is a popular location for a date,” Klaus replied.  He slid an arm around her waist, and leaned down to nip the next piece of candy out of her fingers.  He wrinkled his nose in distaste, making Caroline stick her tongue out at him.  “I’ll take you to the movies next.”

              “The movies?” Caroline asked.  “Which one?”

              “I… _The Notebook_?  Rebekah seems to adore it.”

              So did Caroline, but she decided she was too stubborn to admit to having something in common with Rebekah Mikaelson.  She’d swept into the café the previous day, this time in a white pantsuit, and declared that Caroline was the worst before ordering the drink that Finn refused to shut up about.

              He had also been in the café, _every single day_.  Enzo had already texted her earlier in a tizzy for her Frappuccino recipe, because Finn was there throwing a fit, in pure old English fashion, over no one else knowing how to make it.

              “If you can find a theatre playing _The Notebook_ , I’d go see it with you,” Caroline replied, before biting her lip thoughtfully.  “Or… you could just come to my place. And watch it with me.  At my place.”

              She determinedly looked ahead, considering the rides.  Should they do the teacups next?  Or maybe the Scrambler?  It looked like it flung you into your seat partner… a perfectly good excuse to cuddle close to Klaus.  He smelled really good today for some reason, and she would take any close to cuddle close and get another whiff.

              “Is that an invitation into the hallowed halls of your home, Caroline?” Klaus asked with a smirk.  “The ones you’ve been so hesitant to let me enter?”

              “I’ve decided you get points for good behavior.”  She shoved cotton candy into his mouth and escaped his hold while he grimaced again.  “So yes, it is.  I want to ride the Scrambler.”

              She spent the ride pressed into his side, snickering at the other fair goers that rode with them. Klaus’ jaw clenched tight the whole time, and when they got off he just barely took the time to help her down before he got away.

              “Is that supposed to be appealing?” Klaus demanded when they were on the ground again.  “Whirling in circles like mad men?”

              “It _was_ fun,” Caroline replied.  “It… it makes her belly disappear and makes it feel like you’re flying.  Don’t tell me big, bad Klaus Mikaelson gets ride sick?”

              “I’m not sick,” he grumbled.  “I just don’t understand this human desire to be tossed around in unnatural ways.”

              He grumbled something more, but Caroline couldn’t catch anything other than “control” and “health” and it made no sense to her.  She imagined it was him being grumpy over handling the ride poorly, so she elbowed him. 

              “Lighten up,” she commanded.  “It’s a gorgeous day.  We’re at an amusement park.  And I’m pretty sure those are mini donuts over there, and even if you hate the rides, everyone loves mini donuts.”

              She slid her hand into his, and tugged him towards the donut stand.  He froze, and tugged her back.  She let him tug her into his arms.  He framed her face with his hands and pressed his lips to hers.  The amusement park disappeared, and it was just the two of them and their lips touching, and everything was almost perfect.

              “I am in love with you,” Klaus said, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

              And there it was.  _Perfect_.

              Caroline Forbes, who had never trusted anyone a day in her life, who was paranoid beyond description, smiled at Klaus, and wondered if the world really was a little brighter, or if it was just her.

              “I love you too.”

_T-minus two days…_

“Okay, I have to ask,” Caroline said when Rebekah approached her in the café.  She was accompanied by Elijah and Kol, the last of the siblings to finally visit her at work. “The pantsuits, Rebekah.  What’s up with them?”

              “It’s clear to me that despite the poor decisions made in this country, Hillary Clinton is by far the most successful and intelligent leader your people have to offer.” She brushed a hand down the front of her jacket.  “If I’m to emulate someone in my rule, I intend for it to be her.”

              “So you plan to be president,” Caroline replied flatly.  “You know what?  Not even that surprised.”

              Rebekah scowled, prepared to argue some point – probably just because it was Caroline who had spoken, and she seemed to hate her.

              “We wish to try these… _Frappuccino’s_ that our siblings won’t shut up about,” Kol interjected before Rebekah could speak.

              “Correction – _you_ wish to try one,” Elijah replied.  “I am not sure why I was forced to accompany you.”

              “Would you prefer a martini?” Caroline asked dryly.  “Shaken, not stirred.”

              If Elijah was surprised by how flawlessly Caroline was able to emulate a British accent, he didn’t show it.  Nor did he ask about it.  He just looked curious, glancing at the menus again.

              “Is that an option?”

              Caroline stared at him, expecting to see some sign that he was joking.  But he remained unflappable, and she finally shook her head.

              “No. We’re a café.  We serve coffee, and some baking.  Our lemon loaf is lovely.  Do you want the Frap or not?”

              “He wants it,” Rebekah said, waving a hand when Elijah looked ready to argue. “Oh, cease being like that, brother.  He wants the drink, Caroline.”

              Caroline nodded, and turned back to mix them.  She was in too good a mood for even three of the four devil’s children to annoy her.  The previous night Klaus had finally come to her apartment, and it had been… _fun._ Fun in ways she hadn’t realized sex could be. 

              She whistled as she made the drinks, and grinned at the Mikaelsons as she brought the drinks to the till.  Kol raised a brow, while Elijah just sighed and took his drink, leading his brother to a nearby table.  Rebekah remained in front of her.

              “Do you want something else?” Caroline asked.  “Maybe that lemon loaf?”

              “Nik said he watched a movie with you last night.  At your apartment.”

              “We did.  _The Notebook_ – your recommendation, I understand?  I think he may have gotten teary eyed.  I can’t be sure though, because I always sob when I watch it.”

              Rebekah gave a sharp nod, tapping perfectly manicured nails on the counter.

              “Are you in love with my brother?”

              “Yes,” Caroline admitted, figuring she might as well at least _try_ and not hate Klaus’ sister and vice versa.  Rebekah nodded again, and then sighed.

              “I hope Nik knows what he’s doing.  And I hope you do, too.”

              “I don’t think anyone knows what they’re doing when it comes to this sort of stuff,” Caroline admitted.  “I think we just feel and then… let it happen.”

              “I was afraid of that,” Rebekah replied, and she looked oddly miserable.

              Even more odd… Caroline didn’t think that misery was because she didn’t like Caroline at all.

_T-minus 1 day…_

              The day had felt odd right from the time Caroline woke up.

              She had felt like this before, when a job ended up going south.  She had scars that told the tale of those jobs.  Klaus had spent time kissing them, asking her about their source.

              She had lied, made up childhood injuries from bike accidents or falling off horses.

              Such an odd thing to reminisce about.

              She made it through the day in that haze of _not_ right.  Enzo and Elena had been the same as they ever were, and if they had the same sense of dread she did, they weren’t showing it.

              It wasn’t until she finished her shift, and found Klaus waiting for her outside that the world seemed to right itself, even if just a bit.

              “The family reunion is tomorrow,” she recalled when she saw him.  She had all but forgotten about it until that, if she were being honest.  “When do your relatives start arriving?”

              “They’ll begin to roll in through the evening, but the bulk will show up tomorrow morning.” He pressed a kiss to her nose.  “Elijah and Finn will take care of it.  Tonight, I want to think only of us.”

              “Are you sure?” she asked.  “I mean, it has to be a while since you’ve seen some of them.”

              “I’ll plenty of time to catch up tomorrow.”

              They went to her apartment, and his kisses felt almost desperate as he took her to bed.  He looked into her eyes, as though memorizing them, as they moved their hips together.  And when they finally reached climax, he held her close, her back to his chest.

              “I love you,” he said into her hair.  “Whatever comes tomorrow, know that I mean that, Caroline.”

              She wanted to ask him what he meant, but exhaustion seemed to hit her, knocking her into a deep sleep.  She swore she heard Klaus murmur against her ear before she fell.

              “I swear, nothing will happen to you.”

_Zero hour…_

Caroline woke up, and new immediately that something wasn’t right.

              This bed wasn’t hers.  It was Klaus’.

              She rolled out of the bed and found that she was completely alone.  There were clothes sitting on the edge of the bed.  They seemed to be made out of some sort of loose material; a pair of simple pants, and a shirt with three quarter lengths, both in white.  Then a long, sleeveless vest of some sort, this in rainbows and a wool that felt heavier yet softer than anything she was familiar with, to go over top.

              She didn’t want to face his siblings naked, so she pulled the clothes on, and stepped out of the room.  She didn’t see another person until she got to the base of the steps. As one, the people in the den turned to look at her. There were four, and she didn’t recognize any of them. They were all pale haired and eyed, their features androgynous, though she though they might be female.

              Still as one, they all knelt.

              “Princess, we are at your service,” they all said.

              “What the hell is going on?” she demanded.

              “The Prince is claiming this world for our glory,” one of them said.  “We are to ensure your safety until he returns.”

              “I don’t sit and stay very well,” Caroline replied, turning away.  “So I’ll be leaving.”

              One of them, moving like a dancer, stepped in front of Caroline, blocking her exit.

              “You must stay here.  The Prince will explain all.”

              Caroline considered the four women, and then took a step back, holding her hands up.

              “Of course.  I’ll wait.  I’ll be in my room.”

              The women smiled and went back to whatever they working on, while Caroline rolled her eyes.  Did they not realize the town house had a damn fire escape right outside the window?

              She discarded the robe and climbed out.  It was a matter of minutes to scale down the fire escape, and hike down the alley to come out half a block away from the town house. She could hear the sirens from the time she left the town house, but they got louder as she approached a busier street.

              She walked into mayhem.

              Or a scene directly out of Independence Day.

              People were fleeing in all directions, and she dodged around them to take shelter in the entrance to a lingerie store that looked like it had been abandoned.

              “What the hell is happening?” she said, staring at what were very clearly UFOs.

              _They’ll begin to roll in through the evening, but the bulk will show up tomorrow morning._

No.

              No way.

              Except…

              They were all so _weird_.  And it made perfect sense.

              Screams grew louder, and Caroline looked down the street.  Men and women in dark uniforms walked down the street in perfect formation.  Even without the weapons, she would have known they were soldiers.  The guns were weird, but she knew her way around a firearm without knowing the exact type.

              Caroline dipped, grabbing a loose brick that had fallen to the sidewalk.  She smashed the door of the store, reached in and unlocked it.  It set off the alarm, but that was a matter of just a couple more seconds.

              Not that she thought the noise would attract the cops, not with a fucking invasion outside.

              By the time the soldiers reached the store, she was hidden in the back, the dark keeping her from being visible to the outside.  She watched the soldiers march by with cold eyes, heard as they shot her neighbors and loved ones.

              At the end of the parade came different uniforms, these decorated differently, with red embellishments where the others only had black.  One of them paused, seeing the broken glass, and he flagged down one of the foot soldiers.

              He moved on quickly, leaving the soldier to come into the store. 

              Caroline waited patiently.  It was amazing, how well you could hide simply by being still.

              He passed her, and Caroline struck out, using the brick to take out the man’s ankle with a crunch.  The next hit was to his head.  It took two, to crush his skull, and it left blood spattered on the white of her clothes, across her face and hands.

              She had already gone cold, though.

              The gun was incredibly weird, but it had the same basic mechanics as any of their own.  The safety took a few minutes to find, and she made sure that it actually shot something when she pulled the trigger.

              It was a laser, and it easily put a hole into the dressing room.  The damage was slightly larger than what a bullet would do, but it would also do far less internal damage. 

              She eyed it, trying to figure out how to tell if it was empty or not, and came up short.  She let out a slow breath, not liking the thought of going out there without full knowledge of how it worked, but also realizing she didn’t have another option.

              She stepped into the street.  There was nothing left but dead bodies, the only remnants of the soldiers, and the UFOs in the air.

              And just to the left, sitting on a bench, was Klaus.

              He wore the dark uniform with red, which she assumed must denote rank.

              “How did you know where I was?” she asked him.  He stared at her, his face pale as he took in her blood spattered figure.

              “I always know where you are,” he said.  “I can’t escape you.”

              “That’s pretty,” Caroline replied flatly.  “Nice family reunion you have here.  They could be friendlier, though.”

              “Caroline…” Klaus stood and reached a hand for her, but Caroline took a step back and tightened her grip on the gun.  He froze, and ran a hand through his hair.  “Surely you see that this is for the best, Caroline.  This planet… it’s a disaster.  But it can be _saved_.”

              “And you’ll be our savior?” Caroline gave a mirthless laugh.  “Because this” – she waved a hand around – “this just looks like _death_.”

              “People have to die,” Klaus replied.  “Before they can be controlled.”

              Those words sounded so reminiscent of Augustine, that Caroline could almost agree with him.  Everything she had done, after all, had been for the “greater good.” At least that had been the claim.

              She nodded thoughtfully to herself.

              “I get that.”

              Klaus took two quick steps towards her, and kissed her right there, in the street with dead bodies around them.

              “More were taken prisoner,” he promised her when they separated.  “We wish this to be as peaceful an invasion as possible.  Everyone is given the choice.”

              “Good,” Caroline replied, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.  He tasted so damn good, and then he tasted salty, because tears streaked down her cheeks.  “I choose to fight.”

              Klaus recoiled, and then stumbled back, giving a shout of pain when Caroline shot him in the knee.

              “Caroline!” he screamed at her back.  He couldn’t follow her, not injured as he was.  The knee cap was the best target when you didn’t want to be followed, and didn’t want them dead.

              She _should_ want him dead.

              But Caroline’s greatest trait, and her greatest flaw, was her loyalty.  And she had imprinted on Klaus.  She _loved_ Klaus.

              God help her, but she couldn’t kill him.

              Instead, she ignored his shouts and ran away.


End file.
